Ringing in the New
by Jedi Goat
Summary: AU post-DH-ish. Fred and Hermione embark on a strange and terrible quest: to install a Muggle telephone in their flat. Too bad Mr Weasley decided to 'help'. Slight FredxHermione.


**Ringing in the New**

Jedi Goat

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: For Fanfic100, prompt _009 - Months_. Yay for even more FredxHermione! :D

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"So this is what Muggles use to communicate with?" Arthur Weasley pushed up his glasses on his nose to better observe the jumble of wires spread out from the wall. A sheen of sweat shone along his eager brow as he oversaw the work being done in the flat's partly-uprooted living room.

Mr Granger, hunched over the wires with his brow furrowed and a crumpled list of instructions in front of him, only nodded distractedly. Though his bailiwick was dentistry, not electrical wiring, it was out of the question to hire an electrician to hook up the wizarding home, and thus he had been the next best option.

Mr Weasley picked up one of the cables and squinted through the translucent end in fascination. "Muggles never cease to amaze me," he informed his cohort in an absurd sort of compliment. "Now, how do you speak into this thing...?"

"Careful," warned Mr Granger, wisely moving the cords out of reach of his overzealous assistant. "They're not live yet, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Ah, yes, I remember that Muggle saying." Mr Weasley mercifully stopped fiddling with the equipment, but continued to hover, poring curiously over the cobwebs of loose wires. For the majority of the morning now Mr Granger had been hard at work, first establishing a connection for the wizarding house, which had never had a need for such a thing as "ekeltricity", then spanning the necessary cords along through the wall to a newly installed phone jack.

Hermione Weasley, watching the scene from afar, shook her head as she fought to keep a mildly exasperated smile off her face. "You don't talk into the cord, anyway," she informed the Muggle-loving wizard. "See, those wires attach to this receiver over here – this is what you talk into." She held up the coiled phone awaiting its proper installation; Mr Weasley's eyes lit up.

"A fellytone! I used to have seven of those – strange, they all disappeared one day..." He wandered closer to examine the phone, lifting the receiver and putting his ear to it. "I've seen the Muggles do this."

Hermione bit her lip. "It's upside-down."

"Ah! Right..."

Hermione smiled as he continued to fuss over the phone; then, deeming to have distracted him for the moment, slipped through the side door into the kitchen. She nearly collided with a figure coming out; as she stumbled back he slipped an arm around her waist, grinning as he leaned his head against hers.

"How's Dad?"

"Still at it," Hermione huffed faintly. "You shouldn't have told him we were having a phone installed."

"Aw, come off it, 'Mione. He's been dreaming of having a real one since forever. It was your idea anyway, you know."

"It wasn't, it was Mum's," Hermione protested. Her parents felt understandably out-of-touch after their daughter's marriage into a pure-blood wizarding family; and considering her current residence in Diagon Alley, London, was miles away from their old home, communication wasn't easy. As Muggles, they were wary to trust solely owl-based communication; and what if there was an emergency? Mrs Granger finally put her foot down and convinced the young witch to settle with a telephone, which prevented any excuse for not giving weekly updates, and was "simple enough for even wizards to understand".

Apparently, Hermione was now thinking, she had never met Mr Weasley.

He shrugged. "You can't expect your folks to come 'round without him hearing about it. He loves all their fancy techno-gizmos or whatever they call them. 'Sides, it's pretty neat of your dad to do this for us. I'm sure George and I could've managed it somehow on our own, but hey."

"Not without burning the shop down first, you couldn't," Hermione accused, poking him in the chest. "I've learned _some_ things from being married to you for six months, thank you very much."

"I'm honoured," Fred smirked. He glanced out into the living room. "Now, shall we rescue your dear ol' dad for a while, or leave them to this lovely fatherly bonding?"

Hermione winced. "We should probably give him a hand."

When they emerged in the living room, however, Mr Weasley made a beeline for the duo with a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

"Your mother will be so happy," he informed them. "We'll never be out of touch again! None of that trouble with owls getting lost or Errol fainting on the job, no, not any more."

"What did you do, Dad?" Fred asked warily.

"Oh!" Mr Weasley turned on him with a broad grin. "Liam has been so kind as to offer to hook up the Burrow when he's done here!"

"That's...lovely," Hermione said hesitantly, shooting Fred a look that clearly read, _This is all your fault_.

"Erm...listen, Dad," Fred said quickly, "you might want to consider letting Mum know before you start tearing walls down, all right? We really don't need her to get mad at us, again..."

The End

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